


Snap Dragons

by why_not_jane



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Texas Gothic, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Crack Treated Seriously, F/M, Magic, Modern Witchcraft, Witch Darcy, love potion
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-19
Updated: 2015-10-23
Packaged: 2018-04-27 02:54:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5030911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/why_not_jane/pseuds/why_not_jane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Occasionally, magic forgets it's supposed to be a subtle force, and creates a situation-FUBAR style.</p><p>Or, Darcy attempts to make a love potion. She never meant for anyone to actually <em>drink</em> it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Peonies

**Author's Note:**

> This work is a crossover with Rosemary Clement-Moore's novel, 'Texas Gothic'. You don't need to have read the book to follow the story AT ALL-but it's one of my favourite books ever, and I seriously recommend it!
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> I was sick, and I really wanted to write total and complete crack, so.... *drumroll* Give it up for Totally Predictable, And Utterly Trope-y Bullshit!
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

"I can't believe people fall for this BS," Jane said, while munching on her homemade pizza.

Curled up on the couch next to her, with her hot laptop acting as a heat pack to her cramp abused lady organs, Darcy rolled her eyes good-naturedly. She wasn't at all affronted by her friend's dismissive nature to all things magic. (Magic-magic. Not super-inexplicable-science-that-we-call-magic, magic).

"Maybe it's good that they fall for this 'BS'," she said, scrolling through her emails to check for order forms, "It's good to believe in something. Even that crazy girl who sells potions on a shady website. The power of hope is basically this worlds' Force."

"Next time you whip up a something that can give me telekinesis and mind control, I'm giving up science," Jane told her, grabbing the remote from the coffee table to channel surf.

"Give up science? Perish the thought!" Darcy said, clutching her heart dramatically. Jane elbowed her, and she laughed.

"Magic works on a more subtle level. It's not gonna turn you into Thor, but it doesn't mean that it's not gonna do what it says on the bottle," Darcy said absentmindedly, continuing to scroll.

Darcy eventually looked up to see Jane frowning at her.

"You sound like you actually believe in the crap you're selling people," Jane said, almost worriedly.

"So what if I do? Wouldn't believing be better then fleecing naive people on the internet? Besides, it's not like I'm putting aconite roots in them. They're not going to drop dead-they might even live a few more months longer then they would!" Darcy said, trying to keep the irritation out of her voice.

Jane stared at her, then rolled her eyes, settling back into the cushiony couch.

"Sometimes, I just don't know where your head is at," she muttered. Her eyes flickered back to Darcy's laptop screen.

"Do people actually believe you can make a love potion?" she asked, tilting her head and squinting, “And why the hell do they call you, ‘Ms Goodnight’?”

Following Jane's gaze to an unread email, Darcy sighed. Not another one.

"I don't do shit like that. Way too dangerous. Could get sued or something, but that doesn't stop people from asking. Or begging. Or threatening to turn Karen orange." 

Darcy hoped that the threat of an orange cat had caused Jane to be sufficiently distracted, so the other woman wouldn't notice the deflection of her second question. How do you explain to your doubting best friend that your family name was famous in the hidden world of earthly witchcraft? 

Sure enough, Jane looked at the black cat curled up next to her, "I can't believe you called your cat Karen."

"She chose her name, much like how she chose me to be her human," Darcy told Jane primly, "Just be grateful you don't have to scoop her poop," she continued, mouse hovering over the 'trash' button on the email.

Because that's what it was. As much as Darcy like to help her customers out, she had a strict policy against anything that strong. It wasn't just begging for lawsuits-it was begging for chaos. Darcy had heard the story about the guy and the horse enough times, thank you very much, Gran.

"There is absolutely nothing on," Jane muttered, glaring at the informercial on TV.

"Then you know what time it is!" Darcy said cheerfully, snapping her laptop closed.

"Time for bed," Jane grumbled, sighing before hauling herself up from the low-sitting couch.

"I was gonna say alien-sexy times, but sleep is good," Darcy agreed, turning off the TV. She wasn't really sure what the infomercial was for, but after seeing the pained look of 'I don't get payed enough for this shit' in the presenter's eyes, she decided that was probably for the best.

"But don't forget! A horny Jane is a grumpy Jane," Darcy grinned, grabbing an actual heat pack and following her friend to her door.

Outside, Jane turned to face her, "Same goes for you, Darcy. You seriously need to get over your crush on You-Know-Who, or you're going to bite someone's head off. Go out and get laid, or better yet, ask him out."

"I do not have a crush on Voldemort," Darcy told her friend firmly, closing the door in her face.

Crossing over to where she left her laptop, Darcy scowled. For some reason, Jane's comment about her crush had hit far closer to home than her digs at Darcy's side business. Which annoyed Darcy even further.

Turning off the light, her laptop screen was now the only thing illuminating the kitchen area. It gave off an eerily grey light, as if there was something in the air obscuring it from properly lighting up the room.

_Ms Goodnight, I have been in love with my best friend for seven years. He has never seen me as anything else, and I've tried getting over him so many times-my friends call me a serial dater because of all the first dates I've been on! But I just can't fall in love with anyone else while he's there. He's so kind, and sweet, and we fit together so well, and maybe you think I'm some obsessed tween, but I swear, I've thought this out for months. I know you say on your website you don't do love potions, only luck and clear sight, simple things like that. I've order from you before, and was super surprised when they worked! I'm seriously begging you for a love potion, or anything that will make him realise. Please?_

Darcy scowled. She hated these. The people who seem kind, who are only contacting her as a last resort, for something she couldn't give.

A little luck while on a date, focus for studying, relaxing after a big event, and occasionally a fine tune to make the drinker more sensitive to the spirit world. Those, she could do-in fact, several bottles promising just that lined the cupboards, ready to be shipped around the country.

Before stepping into the shower, Darcy typed out a firm, but kind response, and clicked send. Rubbing her abdomen, she sighed. She did not want to be hearing about tragic love tonight, thank you very much.

Afterwards she snuggled into her bed, Karen sprawling across her feet, the pain finally disappearing after a heavy dose of pain killers. Intending to start her newest ebook buy as a bedtime story, she saw the notification of one unread email pop up on her phone screen .

Despite the foreboding feeling in her stomach (though on second thought, that could just be the cramps) Darcy opened it.

_Sorry to hear that, Ms Goodnight. Thanks anyway! Though can I ask one question; is it a no because you won't, or because you can't?_

Darcy glared at that last word. Can't. Despite the kind wording, it felt particularly accusing. As if she wasn't good enough to perform such a task. Like it was too difficult.

Rolling to her side to get out of bed, Darcy stopped herself.

 _Nope. You know she just meant if it was possible or not. No offense to you,_ Darcy told herself. She settled back down into her mattress.

 _But_ could _you?_ her mind whispered.

 _I can't believe I'm doing this,_ she thought to herself, yanking the covers off, ignoring Karen's irritated hiss. Reaching under her bed, she grabbed an old shoebox that had once housed her fuck-me heels, and picked out her grandmother's recipe book.

The old book was practically useless, considering she had nearly all the recipes memorized, or typed into her tablet. But there was one she had pondered over while typing them in, eventually turning the page to avoid it altogether.

Though _old_ wasn't a particularly accurate description. The pages were infused with magic, and though it was far older than her, it still had the stiff spine and thick pages of a new book. Combined with the splattering of ingredients, and handwritten notes crossed out and rewritten in the empty spaces, it gave for one rather odd looking cook book.

Darcy turned the light on with much more force than usual, and as she set the book down on the kitchen bench. The lightbulb flickered, as if it could sense that something was about to happen.

Ignoring it, Darcy thumbed through the book till she reached the middle. Right by the spine, in her grandmother's precise handwriting, was the one potion she had been thoroughly warned against.

 _'Anything that gets a sober man to french-kiss a horse has far too much power to put in the hands of a mere mortal. And that's when it's done right. I don't want to know what he'd have done to the poor horse if they had got it wrong,'_ she remembered her grandmother telling her sternly. Darcy wondered why the woman hadn't simply scribbled it out, or destroyed the page altogether. Maybe, just like Darcy, she had wondered. _What if?_

Instead of her usually methodical cooking style, Darcy put a pot on the stove and set to work, not bothering with collecting the ingredients beforehand. It would make the whole thing feel far too deliberate.

Two green eyes glowed out of the semi darkness of the hallway, watching her bustle back and forth. Darcy had never quite figured out how Karen managed to emit such suspicion and disapproval for an animal, but figured it was every cat's natural state. Or Karen was the reincarnation of someone's very strict mother.

Darcy paused to glare, "I could do without the judging, thank you very much, Karen."

Her head tilted, then she turned, followed by the swish of a tall black tail before disappearing into the darkness, leaving Darcy with the distinct impression that if Karen could talk, she'd be muttering something about funerals and 'I told you so's'. Darcy rolled her eyes turning firmly back to her book.

The recipe called for a far more precise method then she was used to. Usually, it was like making a basic soup. It didn't matter too much what order you put the ingredients in, so long as they all ended up in the pot.

But this was some Harry Potter shit. Stir clockwise, but only half way, cocoa and crushed red coral must be poured in in exactly the same time. Thirteen snapdragon pods must be added one by one at five second intervals. Turn off stove and let cool for five minutes, then add final ingredients.

Darcy skimmed the rest of the instructions-crap. Two teaspoons of honey. She dove for the cupboard, pulling out a crusty bottle of honey, and desperately upending it. The only thing that came off were shards of hardened honey. Totally unusable.

Her eyes flickered to the clock. She had four minutes to get it. Wracking her brain, she remembered that Steve liked to sweeten his porridge with honey, and so a large jar was kept in the communal kitchen.

She eyed the cooling pot, then the clock, as it ticked closer to one in the AM. _Fuck it,_ she decided, sticking the book down her pajama pants, picking the pot up by the handle and making a dash for the kitchen. She must have looked strange, she thought, dashing along the darkened hallway, both hands clasped around the handle, JARVIS turning on the lights quickly. Thank God no one else was awake to see her. She had the odd thought that she was really living up to the Goodnight name.

The potion didn't spill when she placed it on the stove, but just barely. Dragging a chair over, she jumped up and opened the cupboard, grabbing the honey. She landed just in time to scoop two spoonfuls of the stuff and scrape it into the pot, turning up the heat as she went. She took a breath and stepped back, pulling the book out from where it had wedged itself uncomfortably in her undies.

_Now, a light, rainbow sheen should be covering the surface of the liquid as it simmers._

"And..." Darcy muttered, peering into the pot. A bubble rose to the surface of the murky green liquid. It popped, with a disgustingly wet sound.

"And it looks like a moldy sloth took a shit," she sighed. She let out a groan, and thumped her head into the cupboard.

"It basically said to make unicorn pee, but no, it looks like sloth shit!"

Angrily, she grabbed a pair of scissors from the knife block and picked out a lock of hair by her face. She winced at the crisp sound the scissors made on her hair, then threw the lock in. It lay on the bubbling green surface, then slowly sank into it's muddy depths.

Much to her surprise, the colour started changing, from green to brown. Curious, she grabbed a wooden spoon to stirred it, and slowly the thick liquid became thinner, and browner. When it had finished changing, it was no longer an ugly brown, but a gorgeous chocolate. It reminded her of her hair-it even had streaks of honey similar to the naturally lighter streaks in her own hair-or butter not properly mixed into a chocolate cake batter.

It smelt like chocolate cake too, rich and warm. Darcy took a deep sniff and sighed happily.

"Red rose petals! I forgot rose petals," she hissed to herself. She paused, uncertain-but everyone within the tower was asleep. And she'd be back in a minute.

Racing down the hall to her apartment, Darcy thought she'd done a pretty good job for her first time. _First and last,_ she reminded herself sternly.

The jar was between the sugar and salt, for some strange reason, but that didn't slow her down. Wether she was now running on excitement or fear, Darcy didn't know. The potion was nearly, sort-of perfect, and she hadn't run into anyone on her late night trip.

Murphy's law, Darcy. Never forget Murphy's law.

This, of course, meant that when she raced back into the communal kitchen it was no longer empty, and You-Know-Who was standing at the stove.

"Hi Darce," Steve grinned turning around to face her. Usually, the tousled, just-rolled-out-of-bed-look was enough to distract Darcy for a full ten minutes. Now, she barely registered how his fringe fell adorably across his forehead.

Maybe he hadn't had any, Darcy hoped, taking a cautious step forward as her breath caught in her throat. She clutched the glass jar so tight she was half afraid it would break.

"Whatcha cookin', doll?" Steve asked pleasantly. Darcy took small relief in the fact his behaviour to her hadn't changed at all. 'Doll' was a nickname he called her on a regular basis, and the teasing inflection in the word remained the same.

"Chocolate cake?" he asked.

She swallowed, "something like that," she agreed quietly.

"Coz it tastes kinda minty as well," he said thoughtfully, tongue darting out over his lips.

"Oh," she whispered.

Steve frowned, "Darcy, is everything alright?" he asked worriedly.

"Yes!" Darcy nearly yelled. With a sudden spurt of energy, she raced past him, grabbing the hot pot by the rim, which, while not a good idea, certainly not her worst in the last half hour, then chucked the whole thing down the sink. She didn't hear the sound of the glass jar smashing against the tiles as it dropped, sprinkling the floor with glass and dried red rose petals. They had an eerie resemblance to blood.

Her hands were shaking as she searched beneath the sink for drain cleaner, upending the whole bottle down after it.

"Darcy," Steve spoke in her ear, and she froze again. This could not be happening... It wasn't possible that she'd fucked up so badly.

"Are you feeling alright?" he asked, gently spinning her around to examine her carefully. He put one large hand up to her forehead.

"You're feeling kinda clammy," he frowned.

"Period!" Darcy blurted out. Steve frowned.

"Yep, I'm on my period. Icky blood squirting out my uterus. Not attractive, AT ALL," she told him. He blinked, and she ducked under his arm, and raced towards her apartment, where she locked the door tight.

Back against the door, she gasped for air, sliding down until she was sitting.

"Shit, shit, shit," she groaned, putting her face in her hands.

"Oh, fuck me sideways with a cactus."


	2. Sweet Woodruff

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sweet Woodruff - Humility
> 
> I am just so amazed by all the wonderful people who kudos/commented/bookmarked/subscribed, etc. You are beautiful people!
> 
> I uploaded this chapter once already, but it didn't show. I am SO. FREAKING. IRRITATED. 
> 
> *deep breath* so, on with the show!

Darcy had curled up tightly in bottom of the closet, a habit left over from childhood, and desperately waited for her great aunt to pick up the phone. A sleeve of a dress brushed over her forehead, and she snuggled further into the space between the wall and her clothes.

"Goodnight Farm," a sleepy voice finally answered.

Darcy frowned, "Who the hell is this?" she asked, a sinking feeling in her stomach.

"The hell are you?" the voice, heavy with sleep, replied, "and do have any idea what the freaking time is?"

"Amy?" Darcy said in surprise, recognizing her favourite cousins' voice, "What are you doing at Aunt Hyacinth's farm?"

"Farm sitting with Phin-which basically means chasing the goats around all day. Aunt Hyacinth's on a cruise, didn't you hear, Darcy?"

"Fuck," Darcy swore, her head thudding heavily back onto the wall.

"I'm starting to think you called for more than just a chat," Amy observed, "Spill."

Darcy swallowed, hugging her knees close to her chest.

"You know how Gran gave me her recipe book before she died?"

"Yeah..."

"And you know that one recipe she always told us never to make?"

"... Fuck," Amy muttered, sounding resigned.

"I only wanted to see if I could do it," Darcy hurriedly assured her cousin, "it was an accident. So I really need to talk to Aunt Hyacinth."

Amy sighed heavily, the noise creating static.

"Darcy, she's on a freakin' cruise. She's not gonna be back for months, and she hasn't been answering her phone."

Darcy's breath hitched as though she was holding in a sob.

"Look, I'll do what I can, make a few calls to the family. You never know, maybe Phin can find something to reverse it. My dear ol' big sister loves mixing her science and magic, though love potions aren't exactly her forté," Amy's words were kind and firm. She'd always been the normal one in the family, keeping everyone sane-ish, and any prying eyes away from the strange behaviors of the Goodnights.

Darcy chuckled dryly, "Yeah. Heaven forbid Phin and Jane ever meeting. They would be best friends, or worst enemies. I can't decide which is worse."

"Agreed. But just for curiosity's sake," Amy voice turned sly, "who exactly was the unlucky drinker?"

Cheeks reddening just thinking about it, Darcy sighed yet again.

"Captain America," she muttered.

"... God, I don't know wether to laugh or cry. I'll call you tomorrow-or later today, I guess. I don't need to remind you about the man and the horse."

"There's no way I'll ever be able to forget it," Darcy hissed, "I just wish Gran and and Aunt Hyacinth had told us how to _fix it ___instead of going on about french kissing!"

Amy made a sympathetic noise, but Darcy could tell her cousin was trying not to laugh.

"Luck, Darce," Amy said, hanging up the phone.

"Luck," she whispered back, turning her phone off. The closet was plunged into complete darkness, and it took half an hour of sitting with her shoes for Darcy to crawl into bed. When she did, it was to Karen's judgmental frown.

* * *

"Darcy, I'm pretty sure you're supposed to be the adult in this equation," Jane said, staring at where Darcy was curled up under her desk.

"Is that your way of saying you want to be fed?" Darcy snarked back.

"There are pop tarts by the toaster. Just put 'em in and in a few minutes you're golden."

Jane eyed her again, but disappeared from Darcy's line of sight, heading towards the toaster. Darcy nudged her glasses up her nose and went back to playing Angry Birds on her phone. She had settled on the age old solution to her problem-ignore it, and hope it magically disappears to another realm. Or at least couldn't spot her under the desk.

Everything was going fine, until she heard the lab doors slide open, fear freezing more thoroughly than any snap freeze ever could.

"Jane!" Thor's boisterous voice called out. Darcy sagged in relief. Jane's bell-like laugh rang out as Thor swept her off her feet.

Stressed Darcy could do with a Thor-special hug too, so Darcy slid out from underneath the desk, and was rising to her feet, when she spotted the blonde man standing next to Thor.

Immediately, her legs collapsed beneath her, leaving her sit with a thump on the hard concrete floor. Her butt ached dully, and she knew that those keen blue eyes had already spotted her. Damn.

"Darcy!" Steve called, and she could practically taste the happiness in his voice-not that she knew what that would taste like. But she would bet money it tasted something like Steve. A bolt of fear hit her hard.

Up till this moment, she'd had no idea how strongly he'd been affected by the potion. She'd been crossing her fingers for a slightly embarrassing crush, hoping against hope that it wouldn't be as epically bad as the wicked stories her grandmother had told her and her cousins.

Two long legs clad in jeans crossed in front of her desk. Grudgingly, she looked up to see two blue eyes staring down at her worriedly.

"Whatcha doing down there, Darce?" he asked, bemused.

"Hiding from my troubles," she muttered.

"Good luck with that," Steve said, amused, and she poked her tongue out at him.

"Your face is gonna freeze like that one day," he told her cheerfully, offering her a hand.

Cautiously, she took it.

"I never thought you one for old wives' tales, Steven," she said haughtily. Steve laughed again, and ended up tugging her a little too hard, so that she bumped against his chest. She froze.

Steve didn't seem to notice, taking a step back to pull her away from her desk.

"Once you talk to a guy with a red skull for a face, you end up reevaluating every fairytale you ever heard," he said, surprisingly cheerfully. Any other time, Darcy would have been so proud he had managed to talk about Schmidt without immediately becoming melancholy about life before the ice.

"Not to mention the god sucking face with my best friend" was all she said, and Steve looked up, only to wince away.

"Yeah, that sure does take some getting used to," he muttered, biting his lip.

Darcy found herself settling into the routine of their banter, relaxing slowly into Steve's side.

"Oh, and I grabbed you something," Steve said, picking a plastic bag off the desk and thrusting it into her hands. Darcy glanced up to find Steve's ears turning a subtle shade of pink. It continued until his entire face resembled a flamingo. Darcy's heart stuttered.

She opened her mouth, not entirely sure what was about to come out of it, when Steve saved her the trouble.

He hugged her, more gently than usual, she thought, as if afraid of hurting her. And was it her stress prolonging the interaction, or was he holding on longer than a friendly hug?

"I've got to go. See you at lunch, yeah?" he said.

"Mmm-hmm," Darcy managed to hum awkwardly.

He walked out the lab doors, pausing at the corner to glance at her out of the corner of his eye.

_Shit ___.

Thor and Jane finally broke off their kiss, though Darcy was sure it was so Jane could breath, and not to spare the innocent eyes of any witnesses.

"I must leave you, for now. Lady Natasha is teaching me the art of yoga," Thor said cheerfully.

Both women blinked.

"I-I'll have to come and see some time," Jane said, causing Darcy to burst into a coughing fit. Jane glared at her, though her eyes twinkled.

Thor smiled innocently at his girlfriend, only to throw Darcy a wicked wink as he exited. She snorted.

"Shut up," Jane said, rolling her eyes while smiling, "So what did Steve get you?" she asked, sitting down on her wheely chair and pushing herself over.

Darcy dropped the bag like she'd been burnt.

Jane frowned, "... Is something wrong?" she ventured, watching how Darcy was studiously _not looking ___at the simple plastic bag.

"Go on, open it. It's not like he bought you a ring," Jane grinned wickedly, "yet."

"... ha," Darcy muttered, "So not funny, Janey."

Because, weirdly enough, that _had ___popped into her mind, and it was not a thought she wanted to entertain, for a vast number of reasons that she didn't want to think about either. She wished her whole brain would just _shut up ___.

__Slowly, like it might attack if approached too fast, Darcy picked up the bag, setting it on her desk. Carefully, she withdrew the first item. An entire litre of double choc chip ice cream. _What? __The next item was similar-a box of cookies. But it was the final two items that made Darcy piece it together._ _ _

__A soft cushion, filled with some kind of grain, halfway between a teddy bear and a pillow. A microwaveable heat pack. And in it's adorable little pouch was a box of pain killers._ _

__"Did you tell him you were having your period?" Jane asked._ _

__Darcy swallowed, thinking back to exactly what she had said last night._ _

__"I may have mentioned it. In passing," she said, trying not to remember the awkward way she'd blurted that particular detail out. Her brain was scrambling to find something to grasp onto. Something that didn't make her feel slightly giddy. Or ill._ _

__"Screw getting him into bed. You need to put a ring on it," Jane grinned, rolling back to her desk._ _

__"Do not paraphrase Beyonce at me," Darcy grumbled, "and stop mentioning _rings_." _ _

___The truth was, if any other guy, or even Steve at any other time, had thought to do something so sweet for her, Darcy would have married them on the spot. Tony could perform the ceremony, JARVIS having sworn up and down the man was licensed (why, the AI would not divulge)._ _ _

___Even now, she was picturing them curled up in bed together, doing nothing more than holding each other close._ _ _

___She felt awful._ _ _

___But it could have been worse. She was pretty sure she'd screwed up while she was making the potion (okay, so the first screw up was when she had decided to make it in the first place) and she'd gotten it wrong. The ominous way her Gran had told the tale, if the potion was wrong it'd be even stronger. But maybe it was the other way around-she hadn't got it right, and therefore it wasn't as strong._ _ _

___A girl can always dream. Right?_ _ _

* * *

___Darcy stuck to her old, slightly burnt, heat pack that evening, refusing to even look at the adorable teddy bear Steve had bought her._ _ _

___It was nearly eleven when she head Karen nosing about in a plastic bag._ _ _

___Groaning, Darcy snapped, "I don't know what you are doing, but you need to stop!"_ _ _

___For almost a minute, all was quiet, and Darcy settled back into her bed, intent on sleep. A soft thump and loud hiss put a stop to that._ _ _

___Racing out of bed for the second night in a row, Darcy found Karen had managed to tip Steve's present off the kitchen table onto the floor, and was now attacking the teddy bear with an evil glee._ _ _

___"Karen!" Darcy yelled, pulling the cat off the now ruined gift, grains rolling across the floor. The teddy's head flopped pathetically, attached to the body by only a few stitches._ _ _

___Darcy glared at her cat, who had retreated to the top of the kitchen cabinets and was licking her paws in the self-satisfied manner all cats are born having mastered._ _ _

___"I can't believe you," Darcy muttered, sweeping every grain into the plastic bag. She forced the teddy's cute little head in after it, with the ice cream and cookies. The little head looked up at her with sad black-buttoned eyes. She shoved the whole package in her rarely used laundry cupboard. Karen's green eyes watched haughtily._ _ _

* * *

___When her cousin finally rang, it was with a slightly flustered tone just after midnight._ _ _

___"Aunt Hyacinth still isn't picking up her phone," Amy said in greeting, frustration evident in her tone._ _ _

___"I take it I'm not the only one in the middle of a crisis?" Darcy said, trying her best not to find amusement in her cousin's irritation. And failing._ _ _

___"There's thing going on with a ghost. Or maybe it's the goats," Amy sighed, "I've called Daisy in. She's handling it."_ _ _

___Darcy scrunched her face at the mention of her other cousin-the one who would rather play with the dead then her living relatives. Though to be fair, they had much more interesting stories._ _ _

___"She handling the ghost or the goats?" Darcy asked._ _ _

___Amy snorted, "Ghosts. I think the goats would adopt her as one of their own."_ _ _

___Darcy grinned._ _ _

___"I've been going through some of Aunt Hyacinth's old recipe books. Haven't found anything yet, though. Till I can get a hold of her, the best thing to do is probably just stay away from him," Amy said, aware of how unhelpful the advice was._ _ _

___"We live on the same freaking floor, what am I going to do, move out?" Darcy said, trying to keep the frustrated wail out of her voice._ _ _

___"I dunno, call in sick. Tell everyone to stay away because you're infectious or something," Amy offered._ _ _

___"He's a _super soldier_ , Amy. Getting sick is something only mere mortals worry about," Darcy sniffed, "Besides, I kinda tried that tactic."_ _ _

____"Yeah?"_ _ _ _

____"... He may or may not have brought me ice cream. And a heat pack for my cramps."_ _ _ _

____"... Darcy," Amy giggled. Despite being the mature one in the family, Amy had a high pitched giggle, like her lungs were full of helium. It was particularly irritating, especially when you were the subject of said laughter._ _ _ _

____"I've already had Beyonce quoted at me, so please keep your comments to yourself," Darcy said resignedly._ _ _ _

____"Okay, okay, my bad. I'll keep trying to call Aunt Hyacinth, Darcy, and you..." Amy trailed off._ _ _ _

____"Try to keep the destruction of Captain America's reputation to a minimum?" Darcy offered._ _ _ _

* * *

____When Darcy woke the next morning, she had a battle plan. She was ready to seize the day with her head held high, to tackle her issues head on. To be the change she wanted to see in the world. Or whatever. She reached for her phone, pulled the bed covers over her head, and started googling._ _ _ _

____Squinting at the bright light, she groaned. It turns out that sorting through the people who believed in magic, and those making fun of said people was... _challenging ___. Though Darcy had to agree, being forced to watch the person you were 'in love' with yodel to the national anthem in public seemed pretty fool-proof, love potion or not._ _ _ _

_____Other than several embarrassing anecdotes, one particularly memorable one involving a wattle tree and a Blue Swedish duck, she found it was nearly universally agreed that the safest thing to do was simply let the magic wear off. The effects of a love potion were generally strongest the day after being imbibed, and would grown steadily weaker._ _ _ _ _

_____Darcy cheered, wiggling and thrashing about under the covers of her bed in a celebratory dance. If Steve hugged her a second too long yesterday, then he'd be back to normal in no time flat. If it had even effected him in the first place. Could magic potions effect him if poisons could race through his system without taking effect?_ _ _ _ _

_____"Ms Lewis, my sensors are indicating you may be in distress. Do you require assistance?" JARVIS's polite tone asked._ _ _ _ _

_____Darcy paused in her thrashing and flushed, throwing the blankets off her head and looked at the ceiling-because she had to look somewhere while taking to the AI, and he ran the Tower like an angel from on high, so why the hell not?_ _ _ _ _

_____"I'm good, thanks JARVIS," she said, trying not to giggle uncontrollably._ _ _ _ _

_____"Very well, Ms Lewis," the AI fell silent._ _ _ _ _

_____"Actually," Darcy said, sitting up on her bed, "I do have a problem you might be able to help me with."_ _ _ _ _

_____"It would be my pleasure," JARVIS said._ _ _ _ _

_____"Do you think you could tell me when Steve does something..." she searched for the word, " _out of character ___, for him?"_ _ _ _ _

______"That request is too broad for my privacy settings, Ms Lewis," JARVIS said. Darcy imagined the faint tone of disapproval in his automated voice would be the exact one in Karen's-if her cat could talk, and happened to be a masculine, English-sounding AI._ _ _ _ _ _

______"Okay, my B. Umm, if he asks, or talks about me, could you notify me?" she asks hopefully._ _ _ _ _ _

______"... This is acceptable. Though I will not be able to discuss the conversation itself."_ _ _ _ _ _

______Darcy nodded, "Fair enough," she agreed._ _ _ _ _ _

______"Oh, and can you warn me when he's about to enter a room I'm in?"_ _ _ _ _ _

______"Of course," JARVIS said calmly, and Darcy grinned in relief, swinging her feet to the floor and shuffling to the door._ _ _ _ _ _

______"Though may I say, Ms Lewis," JARVIS's voice was hesitant, as if he wasn't sure he should be speaking. She'd never heard him use that tone before, and she looked up with a frown, like she could dissect his non-existent facial expressions._ _ _ _ _ _

______"All the sources discovered in my research suggest humans do not appreciate deception and surveillance of them by their friends."_ _ _ _ _ _

______Darcy wondered why JARVIS researched friends, of all things. And while he could have quite a dry sense of humour, he'd been programed that way. Maybe Tony had tweaked his coding? Nevertheless, he raised a good point._ _ _ _ _ _

______"Is it still deception and surveillance if it's for their own good?" Darcy wondered._ _ _ _ _ _

______"I try not to get into ethical debates, Ms Lewis. My status as an Artificial Intelligence is often used to rule my thoughts on the matters irrelevant."_ _ _ _ _ _

______"Ouch," Darcy winced, "that... that's gotta suck."_ _ _ _ _ _

______"It does indeed, 'suck'," JARVIS replied dryly._ _ _ _ _ _

______"Well, I think you're the nicest, most intelligent person I know. And your opinion, especially on these kinda things, really matters to me," Darcy told the ceiling sincerely._ _ _ _ _ _

______"Your sentiment is returned, Ms Lewis," JARVIS said, warmth flooding his electronic voice._ _ _ _ _ _

______Darcy smiled._ _ _ _ _ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, Darcy. It's not gonna be fixed that easy! It always gets worse before it gets better ;)

**Author's Note:**

> Peonies - Fortune in romance, and compassion. Can also symbolize indignation, bashfulness and shame.
> 
>  
> 
> Also, has anyone seen snapdragon pods before, because HOLY THOR, why????


End file.
